Let Go

Cassey is a happy 16 year old girl with a boyfriend, a sister, a baby brother, and two loving parents. Until one day, her life shatters. Her entire family is murdered, and she is sent to live with her aunt. She always gets in trouble at school. The man who murdered her family haunts her dreams. Until one day, she finds an old newspaper with the man, but younger. She try's to find as much as she can about this man and why he became so twisted up, and what she finds, might surprise her.


2. Research

"Well if it isn't miss crybaby." Alice laughed. I clenched my fist.

"We'll you certainly looked like a crybaby when I punched you. Do you want to do that again, because I'd be happy to." I retorted. Alice looked stunned for a second

"You-you-you," Alice stuttered.

"You-you-you," I mimicked Alice. Alice flushed deep red. "Awww," I said in mock sympathy "is somebody emberessed?" I said in a baby voice. I know it was mean, but people had to learn, to not mess with Casey Witherman. The bell rang, and I walked to class without looking back at Alice. My first class, was science with Mr. Lee. He welcomed me back, and for the rest of that period, I didn't pay attention. The next class was history with Mr. Rayburn. I loved that class. Mr. Rayburn was an old man. As I walked in, I saw a newspaper that had a picture of the man. His name was Allen Whitaker. I looked at the article.

Allen Whitaker, saves 10 from mine explosion in Argentina along with 4 American missionaries. He-

"What do you think your doing?" Mr. Rayburn asked.

"I- um- I was just," I started to stutter. Mr. Rayburn pointed to my desk, and I sat down. Allen Whittaker. That was his name. I had hated someone, I had wanted that person to burn in hell forever, and I never even knew his name. For the rest of the school day, I had thought about it. When the school bell rang to go home, I walked down to the library. I loved that place. Rachel always took me, and when she died, everyone pitied me. All the librarians felt sorry for me.

"Hi. Do you have anything on Allen Whitaker?" I asked. The librarian nodded and showed me to the newspaper section. She pulled a pile of papers and handed them to me. "Thank you." I smiled. Time to get down to business. I thought, diving into the papers

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